Another Day at the Office
by Kitsune Heart
Summary: Filing. Meetings. Paperwork. Hordes of the undead descending upon you and your coworkers, ravenous for their succulent brains. Wing Commander Vinyaya should really get overtime for this. A sequel to "In Another's Eyes."


**A SELECTION from this fanfiction follows this author's note. If you wish to read the FULL fanfiction, you can find it at the author's Archive of Our Own account, linked on her profile.**

I have made the decision to cut off my fanfiction from this site due to ideological differences with site management. I believe that fan-works should be free, which means not only free monetarily, but also free of restrictions such as this site's ban on chat-fics (virtually ruining the Homestuck fandom), second-person point of view stores (it's...a POV...really), and, of course, adult materials, among other things.

I understand that this may upset some readers, but I ask that you respect my decision about how to manage my creative works. They still exist, un-altered, on another site.

I highly recommend you give AO3 a try. Joining the Archive of Own is a simple process, though it may take a few days to go through the waiting list. However, AO3 was created by fans, is FUNDED by fans (meaning it is advertisement-free), and does not restrict anything unless for valid copyright issues. It also has a robust tagging and search system, as well as a series manager, which will reduce the confusion regarding many of my works. If you are an author and would like an invitation, please message me through PM to see if I have any available.

Thank you for all your support as I entered into the world of fan-works. If you're interested in more of my fan-works, including audio productions, cosplay, and videos, please check my Tumblr, also linked on my profile.

Fan-girling with you all,

Kit

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><p>Wing Commander Vinyáya really wished she could say she was surprised. Surprise would have made it sort of fun. Challenging. Invigorating, at the very least.<p>

But, when the call came across on all police channels and, soon after, all civilian lines, she just sighed, opened the bottom drawer of her desk, and took out her crowbar.

She took out a lot of other weapons, of course. Emptied her desk's entire Section 8 storage chamber, including the thick matte-black battle suit and her modified tri-barrel blaster. She suited up swiftly, but calmly, checking for non-existent breaks in the fabric, stretching her hands above her head and then bending double, forearms resting on the floor. Once sufficiently limbered, she put on her helmet, careful to tuck every strand of long silver hair in, and walked out of her office, resisting the urge to hum.

Cirrus was huddled under his desk, crying, babbling on his cell to who cared who. Vinyáya watched him (or at least watched his desk and the two inches of visible space under it) for a few moments and shook her head. "Into the office. Got some snacks in the second drawer. It'll last you a couple of days."

He didn't bother coming out of his cower, but he did speak, voice echoing in the mini-chamber formed by his workspace. "Wh...what if they're still here after that?"

Vinyáya shrugged, laying the crowbar across her shoulders. "Window opens. Three stories up. Aim down, sure the fall'll break your neck."

Sobbing. And some cursing. Vinyáya rolled her eyes and went to the door. She heard scrabbling and the slamming of her private office door right as her hand touched the handle. Then she swung the door open, took a step to the side, swung her crowbar-wielding arm in a great arc, and bashed in her first zombie head of the day.

One of it's eyes popped out on impact, squishing to the floor. Vinyáya grinned. She stepped on the orb, which resisted for only a few seconds before flattening with a tiny "pop." Cool.

She began walking down the hall. There were dozens of other officers about her, if not precisely with her. A good percentage were already glassy-eyed, arms outstretched, mouths watering as their last reserves of saliva drained out, no longer held in by living biology. The rest of the officers were screaming, roaring, shooting at their friends, crying as they slaughtered partners who were already long gone. Most, however, made shots to the legs and arms. Debilitating, not fatal.

"Aim for the head," Vinyáya said calmly, as if she were ordering everyone into a queue. "Aim for the head. Come on, people, I've been telling you for years. It's _not_ difficult."

**[END SELECTION]**

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><p><strong>This story, in its entirety, can be found at Kitsune Heart's AO3 account, linked in her profile.<strong>


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